Painting flowers as it blooms such tragedy
Before the laugh of bitter winter leafs,
Crawl down the grief of hungered agony,
Starving, it feeds... the blood, the wings,

The winded flesh, the broken dreams,
All shall die once as once they lived,
The thorns of roses on thy corpse,
A thousand knives, a thousand doors,

So fell asleep the pillars of our gore,
Blood after blood, stone after stone,
Crownless and naked the storm,
To which all owe their defiance.